The Demons And All The Non-Believers
by racefh853629
Summary: Fourth in the Mia series, picking up a little while after Will You Defeat Them? The team attempts to cope with Warrick's death.
1. Prologue

A/N: I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity, including any musical lyrics that come up in the next chapter. This is the fourth in a series, following The Savior of the Broken, The Beaten and the Damned, and Will You Defeat Them? All four titles come from "The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance, which I also don't own. I also realize it's been over 4 years since my last post in Will You Defeat Them?, so there is a brief intro. This also arcs a little more back toward canon than the others have been. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please review!

* * *

Prologue: Diner Tragedies

_**Previously…**_

_"I'm sorry," he whispered to the casket. "We failed, and I'm so sorry. I love you." He placed his hand on the polished, stained black wood. "I'm gonna miss you so much." His voice cracked, but the tears still didn't fall. "Rest in peace, Sara." He backed away, walking over to where Nick was waiting for him. The veteran criminalist looked at Greg briefly before throwing an arm around his shoulders silently, pulling the younger man along with him. They left the cemetery, their physical bodies the only part of them intact and whole as their entire metaphysical and emotional worlds were shattered and irreversibly damaged._

* * *

_"Don't, under any circumstances, call me Catalina," she began curtly. "Or Cathy, Cath, Cat, Kitty, Katie, Kate, Lee, Lina, Leeny, or any other variation of Catalina that you can come up with."_

_"Is there anythin' we can call you?" Nick snapped, annoyed._

_"God forbid I hate variations of my first name."_

_"What the hell do you want us to call you?"_

_"People call me Amelia, Amie, Aimee, Mia, Lia, Michelle, Chelle, Mischa, Mitch, Elle, or Shelly. Take your fucking pick, Stokes."_

_"So, you know all of us, but we don't get to know you," Warrick said softly._

_"You know all you need to know," Mia replied._

_"You knew Sara," Greg said softly. Mia snapped her head to him along with everyone else in the room as he glanced over in her general direction. "You were at the funeral, standing beside Ecklie."_

_"Yes, I was." The other four bounced their gaze between Mia and Greg. "What's it to you, Sanders?"_

_"Nothing." Greg turned back to the TV, staring at the blank screen again._

* * *

_"Because I am one. Now, let's not fight at the crime scene." Nick shook his head, aggravated._

_"You're new here, so I don't think you understand what myself and the rest of the team is going through."_

_"Sí, entiendo. Sara fue mi amigo también, usted sabe."_

_"Really."_

_"Sí. Ella fue la única persona que trató de saberme."_

_"That's because you're a bitch."_

_"No cuando usted me sabe. Usted no me sabe."_

_"I don't know if I want to."_

_"Su elección."_

_"Do you possess the ability to be nice for two minutes?"_

_"Sí."_

_"Why don't you use it?"_

_"Porque yo le odio."_

_"Usted no me sabe," Nick mocked. Mia grumbled._

_"Cállese."_

_"No."_

"Hey, kids," Vartann said. "I've got to use the bathroom. Don't kill each other in foreign languages while I'm gone."

* * *

_"Don't want you going off the deep end again."_

_"I don't think that's possible, though."_

_"Why not?" she asked, looking up at him. He smiled._

_"Because I have you," he said. She rolled her eyes, smiling._

_"Yeah, you would say that."_

_"I mean it. When you left, I realized how much I need you in my life. I love you more than words could ever say, so… I'm kinda hoping this helps." She looked confused as he dug into his pocket._

_"Umm…" she began as he pulled out a box. He opened it, revealing a diamond ring on a white gold band, because he remembered how much she hated normal gold._

_"Mia, will you marry me?"_

* * *

_**And now…**_

After a long day topped off by Warrick's exoneration, the group decided to celebrate, so to speak, by going out to breakfast. As with most of their gatherings, the conversation eventually turned to good times and even better memories.

For some, anyway.

"Remember that time…" Greg began. "Before Sara was here."

"Damn, you're reachin' back, huh?" Nick said. The others chuckled.

"Yeah. Anyway, I was the new tech, and I'll never forget the first time you walked in to my lab."

Warrick shook his head, laughing. "Do we really need to go there?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," Greg said. "Mia's never heard this story."

Warrick laughed. "It's not that good of one."

"Oh, trust me, it is. Anyway, so Warrick walks in, takes one look at me, and goes, 'where the hell did they dig you out of?'"

Mia laughs, looking at Warrick.

"And I say, 'I'm the new kid, from New York,'" Greg continued. "And he replies, 'well, welcome. Now, where are my results?'"

"Didn't want much to do with him, huh?" Mia asked, smirking.

"The tech we had before Greg was incompetent," Warrick explained. "You had to be short with him, or he'd keep you there forever."

Mia laughed.

"Actually, Greg'd keep you there forever too," Catherine remarked.

"The only difference is, Greg was competent," Nick said.

Greg shrugged. "I liked to put on a show with my results," he said in his defense.

Mia laughed. "Oh, if only I was around for that," she said. "You wouldn't have ever done that to me."

"Yeah, you'd eat me alive."

She shrugged, biting her lip in thought. Greg smirked back at her playfully.

"Speaking of Sara, remember the time when we were pulling that double," Nick began.

Greg and Mia snapped their attention to him.

"Which time?" Warrick retorted sarcastically. Everyone laughed.

"Yeah, exactly. No, but this was a few years ago, when she fell asleep on the couch while we were waiting for Trace."

"Oh, I remember that," Greg said. "She was so pissed when I woke her up."

"You're lucky she didn't kill you," Warrick replied.

"Nah, she wouldn't have killed me. She loved me. I was a little brother to her."

"Yeah," Nick said quietly. The conversation died down for a moment, and Grissom sighed.

"I have to get going," Grissom said. "I have an appointment a little later." He patted Warrick on the shoulder as he stood up. "I'll see you guys tonight."

"Okay, Griss."

"Have a good day," Mia said, smiling. Everyone bid Grissom goodbye as Greg stood up.

"I have to go," he said. "I have an early flight."

"And I've got to drop him off," Mia added as she followed suit.

"So, I'll see you guys when I get back."

"And I'll see you later tonight."

"Bye, guys," Nick said. After Catherine excused herself, Nick turned to Warrick. "Just you and me, Serpico. What'd you say we go grab a beer? My treat?"

Warrick shook his head. "I think the only thing I need right now is a shower," he replied.

Nick sighed.

"You should stay here," Warrick urged. "Get to know that waitress." He winked, and Nick laughed.

"Yeah, okay. I might do that." Nick smiled as Warrick stood up. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Thanks."

"I'll call you later, okay?"

Warrick nodded, shaking Nick's outstretched hand before leaving Nick to focus on the waitress.

* * *

Warrick walked to his car, climbing in behind the wheel. He sighed, taking a moment to relax before turning on the car. A knock on his passenger side window caught his attention, and he turned, finding Undersheriff McKeen standing beside his car. He groaned quietly to himself, rolling down the window.

"Warrick," McKeen said. "I wanted to join you for dinner."

"Sorry we missed," Warrick replied, rather insincerely.

"I just wanted to congratulate you in person. You sure made a believer out of me."

"Thanks."

"Look, uh… I don't want to fire you. I just need to know you're through running the streets on your own looking for bad guys."

Warrick sighed. "Look," he said softly. "I'm done being a rogue on the streets. But, there's, uh, one son of a bitch still out there, and I promise you, we're gonna catch him."

"Yeah," McKeen said. "Grissom taught you well."

"I like to think so."

"You never give up."

"No."

"That's what makes you a great CSI." McKeen stood up, and Warrick looked out the windshield, not prepared for what happened next.

The first shop ripped through his neck, shattering the driver's side window. Warrick moved his right hand up to the wound, holding it as he gasped. The second shot ripped into his chest, causing him to arch backward into the seat before he slumped forward against the steering column.

McKeen wiped his prints off the gun, tossing the gun into the car beside Warrick. Warrick blinked, knowing he was going to die and knowing that he there was nothing he could do to help his friends figure out who did it.

* * *

The first shot caused Nick to jump up, his hand flinching to his gun. He got up and moved toward the door as the diners inside panicked. "Stay low," Nick commanded, drawing his weapon as the second shot was heard. "LVPD, stay calm and stay here." He rushed outside, gun out, heading toward the alley where the shots came from.

He stumbled across Warrick's car and his friend slumped over in the front seat. His eyes went wide as he picked up his phone. He dialed 911 as he checked Warrick for a pulse.

"This is CSI Nick Stokes," he began. "I'm at Frank's Diner, and I have a male gunshot victim, shot twice, once in the neck and once in the chest. I need EMS right away."

He hung up, turning back to Warrick, who was still slumped over the steering wheel. Nick attempted to put pressure on the wounds, knowing it probably wouldn't help his already unconscious friend. "Don't die on me, man," Nick said uselessly. He put his fingers against Warrick's neck, checking for his pulse. Feeling nothing, he sighed, letting go of Warrick's body and backing away from the car. He took note of the blood all over his clothes before swallowing and letting his tears fall down his cheeks. He wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing his cell phone.

When the voice answered on the other end of the line, Nick could only choke out one word. "Grissom?"


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm sorry for the long delay. While I have a chunk of this story pre-written, I haven't had much time to myself to do anything except sleep. So, again, I apologize. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. The snippets that are Mia's ringtones are "Breathing" by Lifehouse, "Answer the Phone" by Sugar Ray, "Good Enough" by Evanescense, and "Citizen/Soldier" by 3 Doors Down. I realize Mia comes off as a little harsh in this chapter, but bear in mind that she and Warrick haven't always had the smoothest of relationships, so maybe it'll make sense. I hope. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 1: The Morning After

_I'm finding my way back to sanity again…_

Mia grunted softly, pushing her phone off the nightstand. She briefly heard it clatter down behind. She had just gotten done dropping Greg off at the airport, so what could he be calling her for now?

_Answer, the phone. I know that you're home…_

She shook her head before dropping it back down onto the pillow. He left her a voicemail, and it was one that she'd worry about later. Because he was probably just bored and looking for amusement.

_Crave my heart and its bleeding in your hands…_

She furrowed her eyebrows. When Catherine called her, she knew she had better respond or be prepared to suffer later. After the night she just had, though, the last thing she wanted to do was deal with another, undoubtedly bloody, crime scene. So, again, she ignored the phone call, figuring she'd say she was in the shower or something when approached about it later.

_Answer, the phone. I know that you're home…_

Another voicemail to sort through later. Mia groaned, curling tighter into a ball. Greg and Catherine calling her relatively back to back normally would've been a red flag to her that something was going on, but she was too tired to give a damn.

_I'm finding my way back to sanity again…_

Greg again. Mia finally sat up in bed, looking through the darkness of her room for where her phone had landed. Three phone calls in a row was not something she was going to ignore. Even though part of her still thought it was just that Greg was bored.

_Answer, the phone. I know that you're home…_

A third voicemail, and Mia felt dread creeping up inside and threatening to drown her. If her team was trying so hard to get in touch with her, then something big must be going on. So where exactly did her phone fall down to?

_Citizen/Soldier, holding the light for the ones that we guide from the dark of despair…_

Mia finally located her phone, and answered with, "Hello?"

"Mia," Grissom replied, his voice unnaturally sad.

She bit back her frown as her fears reached their high point. "What happened?"

* * *

Mia walked into the lab, finding Archie, Mandy, and Bobby Dawson in the break room. She walked in, turning to them and hugging each of them. Nick walked by the room, covered in blood, and Mia covered her mouth to keep from throwing up. Not at the sight of the blood, but at the knowledge of whose blood it was.

She watched Greg walk up to Nick and speak to him briefly, and then the two men parted ways. She left the break room to walk over to her obviously distraught colleague. He turned to her, and she immediately wrapped her arms tightly around him. He sighed, resting his head against her shoulder.

"I'm…" he said softly.

"Yeah, me too," she replied.

"I have to go to the coroner to get his clothes."

She nodded, letting go of his chest and taking hold of his hand. He realized she was going to walk down with him, and he nodded, beginning the longest walk to the coroner that either of them had ever encountered.

* * *

Mia and Greg silently walked into autopsy, finding Dave standing over Warrick's body in a mourning fashion. She could see that day shift was handling the autopsy, and she knew why Dave was standing over Warrick. "Uh, I'm not…" he said.

"Relax, Super Dave," she said softly. "I just… I need to…" He nodded his understanding.

"Take your time, Amelia." She nodded, moving to stand over Warrick's body as Dave and Greg moved deeper into autopsy, trying to give the two of them the moment alone.

She timidly put her hand out before withdrawing it quickly. After snapping on a pair of gloves, she reached out again, stroking Warrick's hair.

"I would've touched you barehanded," she said softly. "But I don't want them to miss one thing that would stop them from finding the fucker who did this to you." She sighed deeply, continuing to stroke his hair. "I know we've had our disagreements, our arguments, our rough moments, and our fights. But, I want you to know that I didn't mean it. Well, I mean, I did, but now it all seems so stupid. I'm sorry, Warrick. I'm really sorry. All those times I wished you were dead… I almost wish I could take those back.

"I always did appreciate you," she continued while Dave pretended not to pay attention in the corner and Greg gathered Warrick's clothes. "I didn't like you much, and I'll be the first to admit that this sounds fucked up. I mean, why am I talking to you? Why the fuck should I care? I hated you when you were alive, and now I'm down here, talking to you like we were best friends.

"But, life's funny like that, Warrick. I feel extremely guilty. Know why? Well, maybe you do now that you're dead, but I'm gonna tell you anyway. It's because even though I never told you this, I always had this grudging respect for you. You were the one person I could always count on readily for a wake up call that was straightforward. You didn't bullshit me, bitch me out, or try going about it the nice way. You just played it like it was, whether I liked it or not.

"And while I always fucking hated it, and, by extension, I hated you for it, I sure as hell am gonna miss it. But, you know, all those times that I said I hated you, wanted to kill you… I didn't always mean it, and I also want you to know how much I respected you. You were a damn good person, a damn good friend to Nick, Catherine, Greg, and Grissom, and a damn good CSI. All of which makes you pretty good in my book, even though I always didn't like you for being so straight with me.

"Anyway," she continued after a sigh. She glanced over to Dave, who was typing on the computer. She saw the tears coming down his cheeks, and she sighed again. "I guess I'm the only one not feeling this. Although, I suppose I really am. I did come down here, after all, to talk to your corpse. And, I guess I'm not down here to make my peace. You can't really make peace with the dead. Believe me, I've tried before. It doesn't work. I'm not even here to make myself feel less guilty. That's not going to work either. So, I guess you're wondering why I did come down here then, huh?

"I guess it's because I feel like I need to say this. Believe it or not, you were actually someone I trusted and cared about a lot. You were a good friend to my friends, and that carries a lot of weight with me. Plus, you were my colleague. I trusted you with my life every night out on the streets.

"I feel guilty that I never got the chance to make amends with you. That I never gave you a chance. That we started on the wrong foot, and never came close to finding the right one. I think with a few more years, we may have been able to be friends. But, life has a funny way of working out, and I guess we'll never get the chance to test my theory.

"So," she said after another sigh. "I guess my final words right now are these. I'm sorry that we never made amends, but I hope you continue to do up there what you've done every day down here- look after Greg, Grissom, Nick, and Catherine. They need you. I'll try my best from here, but they'll need you too. I almost wish things had been different for us, but then again, we wouldn't have been us. I'll see you in the future, kid. Take care of everyone. I'll miss you." She stroked his hair one last time before looking up at Dave and Greg again as she snapped off her gloves.

"He's all yours," she said softly, wiping away the tears that had come to her eyes with the ending of her speech. Dave nodded, wiping away his tears and walking over to her. The two embraced in a hug, and she squeezed him gently. She kissed him on the cheek before nodding at Greg and walking out of autopsy.

* * *

Greg walked timidly over to Warrick, stopping at the table. He stood there, staring down at Warrick much in the same way as he had stood at his first autopsy. But this time, he was sickened.

This was his friend. His colleague. His mentor.

Greg shook his head, scrubbing away the few fallen tears with his sleeve. He swallowed hard, squeezed Warrick's unmoving shoulder, and moved out of autopsy. A short distance down the hallway, he found Mia standing there, waiting for him. Tears adorning both of their faces, they said nothing, simply walking back to the lab with Warrick's clothes.


End file.
